


i chose not to choose life

by iwrotestuff



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fallen Castiel, Group Sex, Homeless Castiel, Human Castiel, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Season 9, Threesome, eventual destiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:10:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwrotestuff/pseuds/iwrotestuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As time passes, Castiel starts to feel violated and disgusted over his sexual encounter with April, and with the added problem of being left on his own, he finds himself having a hard time trying to move on.  But when he finds pills and syringes filled with promises of making him forget not just the feeling of being used, but to forget Dean leaving him behind, Castiel starts to question why even bother?  After all, what's the point anymore, especially when it's much easier to just shut down and let the drugs carry him away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i chose somethin' else

**Author's Note:**

> no no no I'm already working on one fic, I really don't need to start another one D: but I couldn't help it, this would not leave my head.

As time passes, Castiel can't stop thinking about his sexual experience with April.

It isn't because it was his first time, or anything to do with arousal. It isn't about the heat, the comfort, the slide of a naked body against his; it isn't about any of those things. It's about the feelings that surface when he thinks of that moment.

Castiel might not know much about humanity, but he understands that sex tends to be something that is associated with being good. This obsession that all humans seem to have, from such a young age, to even into their twilight years. This force that makes people want to ruin their own lives, cheating on their loved ones, killing each other, starting conflicts and wars for the sake of a woman's touch, or the love of a man who could care less. He has seen humanity have sex for longer than he cares to remember, for all of these reasons that he has never bothered to understand, could not even begin to imagine. He has watched a number of situations and the repetition of it blurred into a giant mess of bodies rubbing against each other, seeking some higher plane that Castiel did not understand why it was worth so much. But now he should be able to, right? He has had a taste of it, the feeling of warmth and pleasurable dizziness that came with the act. Castiel should feel amazing, be willing to do anything, maybe not enough to kill, but to calm down and be able to function as a normal human, right? Such a based body reaction to a kiss, a caress of another's hand against his face, his chest, his legs, his everything. He should feel like how Dean would look like after a trip to a bar, all smiles and good mood.

But Castiel doesn't feel good.

When he thinks of April kissing him and undressing him with gentle hands, instead of a hint of arousal like he had felt after, all Castiel can feel is the heaviness in his stomach, his skin prickling with cold sweat, his heart beating so fast it feels like it would explode at any second. Then this flush takes over his body, and it isn't embarrassment or sexual desire. It's something that makes Castiel want to hide away, to erase that moment from his memories. It makes him dizzy, but not like from before, instead vertigo takes over and it feels like falling from Grace all over again. It makes him want to vomit and he eventually does, and then he's confused and terrified when it is followed by tears, sobs breaking out loud and ugly. He doesn't understand why this is happening, but he still curls up in a an alley, arms gripping his knees in a death hold, fingers cramping in pressure.

The feeling becomes worse as time passes, it becomes suffocating and claustrophobic. It takes away his will to keep on the move, to want to do well for himself and survive. It makes him want to make April pay for doing this to him, despite her being gone, because she took one of the few things that was still pure about himself.

Castiel has watched many things in his long life, and with sex there has also been rape. People using sex as a way to control others, to humiliate them, leaving them broken and ashamed of themselves, the sensory memory of those violating hands on their bodies that bring anything but pleasure. April had not hurt him during the act, if anything she had been gentle and understanding to what it seemed like, a situation she seemed to not understand. But her real intentions had been nothing but cruel, and that knowledge left him disgraced. Because Castiel might have consented at the moment, but he had trusted April. Because maybe for one naive moment, he had thought that... that maybe something good was coming his way, because everything he had experienced about humanity so far, it had been nothing good. Things he had hoped he would not have to go through again. So when his body reacted to her soft touch, he clung to that. He dove into it with a desperation he never knew, and grabbed her body and pressed against it, all soft curves against his sharper frame. Had been lost when her hands had grabbed at him and slipped him inside herself, this feeling of heat and passion that he never experienced before. And it had been good, the best thing he had felt since falling. But it had been a fucking lie, she had lead him into her bed with full intentions to use his body, to ruin it and violate it under the disguised of understanding and an empty promise of something in the far horizon.

And when he realizes this, realizes that he feels...raped, defiled, violated...

He's angry and hysterical, corrupted by this most basic human instinct that should be a good thing, a natural thing, but instead, it was used against him as a means to catch him off guard, to make him weak and easy to control. If she was seeking to ruin him for the rest of his life, she had succeeded.

He tries to get rid of the feeling, tries bathing it away, scrubbing it away, even tries to find others to erase that touch from his mind. Clinging to that homeless man from last week, grabbing at his shoulders and gasping and begging for absolution that would not come. Shoving that prostitute up against the walls of an alley, scratching and hoping that her indifference to sex would somehow transfer itself to him- anything to finally get rid of this... this layer of grime and corruption that had settled on his skin. Drinks and drinks until he can't see straight, until someone pulls him along and offers him a place to stay for the night, and wakes up hungry, thirsty, and hungover on a couch. Then he sins by stealing some of their food before he leaves without thanking them or saying anything. He does all these things that are making everything worse, that are just as bad as what happened with April, just as damning and filthy, but at least... at least he is doing this to himself. That's a small comfort that can never last long enough.

It isn't until he meets a drug addict at one of the homeless centers that Castiel finally finds something that manages to make it all go away. When they are alone in a corner, and no one gives a shit at how they push against each other in a frenzy, the man pulls out a syringe and tells Castiel to push back his sleeve, that this was going to make him all better. He winces a little as the needle is pushed into his veins, and swears he can feel the contents spread throughout his entire body, feels this rush of energy and wonder and heat, and he can't help but smile. The man smiles back and does the same thing to himself before he shoves Castiel back on the ground, all but ripping his sweater off as greedy hands spread out on his torso.

“Cool tattoo.” The man says as he nibbles on Castiel's neck. “What does it mean?”

Castiel can't answer, not past the wave of euphoria that explodes all around him. He giggles and kisses the man to silence him. He doesn't want to talk now. All he wants is this feeling to never end, so the imprint of April's caresses can be washed away from his flesh.


	2. who needs reasons when you've got heroin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel forms a routine. It isn't something to be proud of, but as time passes and the never ending high keeps on, he finds himself not caring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of Cas on drugs. Next chapter will have more about Dean.

The feeling of drugs circulating your body is a sensation that cannot be described. He doesn't think it's because he's only been human for about two months now, or that he hasn't experienced enough to have something to compare it to. It's like... it's something so unique that there are really no words to describe it. Whether be it an injection, a couple of pills, that white powder or tiny drops of liquid, it all has it's own individual path it follows, it's own set of colors and lights that flash in that world they are transporting you to. They all blossom differently as they work, but they always lead you to the same beautiful place. This numbing and empty world that has no pain, no sadness, no horror, no loneliness, and you're perfect there. The feeling of soft hands caressing you one moment and then torturing you the next, that is gone. That feeling of disappointment and hurt when you are told you cannot stay, that goes too. Instead, you are left with this white flash of cold heat, and everything fades away to nothing.

It doesn't last though, as Castiel discovers soon enough. The feeling does not last forever, and he can see why humans become addicts for this feeling. After all he's been through these two months, it's easy to see why some turn to drugs or any sort of vice they can find. To hide away from the harsh reality of their lives, to find some sort of comfort, and Castiel used to wonder why they didn't pray for his Father's blessing, for his love that would surely come. But now he knows that this kind of thinking is a useless, and that there is no one upstairs, even when all the angels had been up there. No one listened, Castiel didn't listen, or at least he never acted on it. Mostly. He had been a good soldier. He was told to not interfere, so he didn't, and watched horrors and other things happen, and was told that 'things happened for a reason', and believed it. Then he met Dean, and everything broke open and truths came out.

Now, more than ever, he can't make himself believe that.

That homeless man who first showed him heroin, his wife and child had been killed by a drunk driver. He cried about it after sex, clung to Castiel like he as the only thing in this world, and it had been weird and strange to be that to someone, but he held the man back anyway. The man couldn't understand why something like that had to happen, and Castiel agreed. The prostitute at the alley dropped something on her way when she had left him, and he called her back and while he picked it up. It turned up to be a sealed photograph of a little girl. The woman takes the picture back and smiles at Castiel, thanking him. Castiel did not judge by looks, but by human standards, the woman was not in the best shape she could be. She was all bones, skin leather tan and wrinkled. She was not beautiful by what Dean would say, but when she smiled, Castiel thought she was perfect.

“My daughter.” She says simply, and turns around without another word. What she was willing to do for her daughter made her beautiful.

Many of the things he thought had been changing lately. Sins were becoming something that did not exist, especially when he saw how these people just didn't have anything else. That they were starving, that they were lonely, left alone, doing this for someone else so they didn't have to go through the same horrors... Castiel thought that humanity was just amazing, their will to keep going despite everything was incredible. So he took his cues from them, learned from this group of humans that went ignored and always looked down upon, this group that was willing to share with him, that didn't question what had happened to him or think him strange. They just smiled at him, shared their food not just with him but with everyone around, or passed him a joint to warm him up.

These people who don't want to kill him and that tell him he can stay as long as he needs to.

-

Dean had given him a cell phone.

Some cash and then left him.

Castiel supposed he should have been smart with his money. But instead, he got piss drunk at a bar on his first night alone, bought more booze from a liquor store, got himself a hotel room, and continued to drink there. Then he had to pay for an extra night because he could not make himself move away from the bathroom, throwing up everything that had been in his stomach. The man in charge of the hotel didn't say anything when he went to pay for that extra night, didn't make a comment on his appearance, but did go see him later with a bag of fast food, saying that he had ordered too much and if Castiel would want the rest.

Then after that, things had been a blur. Before he knew it, a month has passed. Drugs came into his world, saving him from whatever else there had been waiting for him. Perhaps despair at his situation, probably mostly relating to Dean telling him he could no stay, for Sam not saying anything, or the feeling that he had been abandoned not just by the Winchesters, but also by his brethren. He had nothing, so what was the point? Death would have started to become appealing, although Castiel feared what would be waiting for him. Do fallen angels go to Heaven? Go to Hell? That would make more sense. Maybe he would end up in the cage with Lucifer and Michael. That would be something, wouldn't it? But then again, does he have a soul now, with being human and all? All these questions... they would have surely drive him mad. But with drugs, these questions are just passing thoughts that don't bring any sort of feeling, and that's just fine with Castiel. He will ignore it for as long as he can, just live out the rest of whatever life this body has, and deal with it when the time comes.

-

“Whatcha thinkin' about, hot stuff?” Castiel turns his head towards the woman looking at him from the beat up couch. Calling her a woman would to be too much though, she looked like she was in her teens. So young to be doing heroin, too young to be flirting with Castiel.

“Thinking about death. What will happen to me when the time comes.” He answers honestly, drugs leaving no room for hiding.

She laughs, and it's soft and young. It makes Castiel sad. “Don't we all... I think about death all the time.”

“Do you?”

“Oh yeah,” she turns on her back, her left leg swinging off the couch. “It would just be so much easier, you know? Like, no homework, no school, no family to hurt you... my dad couldn't get to me anymore.” The way she says 'dad', it's like she wants to throw up and cry. Castiel isn't high enough to talk about this. He stands up, ignoring her as she asks where he is going. The man at the front of the beat up house is passing out syringes to anyone that comes up. When he sees Castiel come towards him, the man smiles big.

“Hey hey, there's my new friend... need more of a push?”

“Please.”

The man, and Castiel feels horrible for not remembering his name, he turns to the other guy next to him, and says something before he gets up and signals Castiel to follow him. “I got just the thing. I don't sell this stuff, but you seem like a cool dude, and my girlfriend really fucking liked you.”

“I liked her too.”

The man laughs. “You liked how she sucked your dick, don’t fuckin' lie. You're gonna have to join us one more time before you go, alright? She'll kill me if I let you go before that.”

“Perhaps I will.”

“Man, she loves the way you talk... I would be jealous of how into you she is but I can understand her.” The man smirks as he comes up to Castiel, a hand roaming his body for a second before pulling back. “But better wait till she gets here, she's a jealous little bitch. It's like, she can go fuck any guy she wants, but if I want to fuck a guy or a chick when she's not here... dude, she explodes into this fit of jealousy that I can't even deal with!” His voice fades a little at the end, as he starts to dig through his belongings under the bed of his bedroom. “One time, I fucked this chick at a party while she was sucking off this guy in our car, and like, she was so fucking pissed. I was like, bitch you sucked that guy's dick without me around and that's alright, but I can't fuck this chick without you around? The hell?” He pauses as he pulls out a small, beat up box and sets it on the bed. He continues to talk as he walks towards the door of the bedroom to lock it. “She just huffed and ignored me for a week, and for a second I was all like, 'oh we broke up I guess', and part of me was so fucking glad, but of course she needed her fix, as always.”

“If she gives you that much trouble, why are you still with her?” Castiel is honestly curious. For a man who does not give a damn about anything, he seems to care a lot about keeping this woman around. Castiel would say this guy was in love with his girlfriend, but the way they go with other people or how they try to get everyone to join them in bed, it just seems like they aren't... and maybe Castiel is too naive about relationships. He gets that you don't have to be in love with someone to have sex with them, that he understands too well, but when you're in love with someone, like this man might be, then why would you want to be with anyone else?

“Shit man... I guess I love her? I dunno, I just don't wanna lose her. Maybe I'm possessive like that, but like, I don't get jealous like she does so part of me thinks that maybe I don't love her, but I love the way she gets all angry over me touching someone else, like she's the one who is in love with me.” He grins at Castiel. “That she wants me so bad... it's an ego boost I suppose.”

“So you're using her. For a... for an 'ego boost', for... for sex?”

The man makes a sound on the back of his throat and thinks about it as he pulls a strange looking cylinder. “I guess so. I give her drugs and she gives me sex. Works out alright to me. Aw man...”

Whatever he had liked about this man the night before, and Castiel really can't remember what it was, but whatever that thing was... well that's gone now. This man is the worst. But he has what Castiel needs, so he just puts up with it. He almost groans when he remembers that he'll have to wait until the man's girlfriend gets here too. At least that part wouldn’t be that bad, because the man had been right. He _had_ liked the way she sucked him off.

“So,” the man looks up a him with a sorry look. “I guess I don't have my other stuff.... but I have lots of weed, is that good enough?”

Castiel wants to scream, but it's something at least so he takes it and hopes that it'll be enough.

-

They both lay on the man's bed, and Castiel tries to make a game out of trying to figure out his name. It isn't important, it really isn't but it becomes more fun as time passes, and before he knows it, the girlfriend shows up. Her eyes light up when they see Castiel on the bed. He wants to be angry and disgusted at being viewed as a piece of meat. But he's too far gone to even care about that.

“Well, isn't this a nice surprise?”

“Figured you'd be happy.” The man sits up and takes off his shirt, while the girl does the same. It seemed like they didn't waste any time at all. “I didn't even have to force him or nothing.”

“Are you sure? Maybe it's the, you know,” She makes an injecting gesture on her arm. “is that right, blue eyes?” She winks at Castiel as she takes off her bra slowly, trying to make a show out of it. Castiel can't make himself interested enough. He's found that heroin kills his sex drive, which is actually a good thing most times, but at the moment, he's wishing he hadn't done any today.

“A little of both.” He answers. She laughs, delighted, and pushes both her jeans and underwear at the same time.

Castiel starts to follow their lead, taking off his shirt and pants, leaving his boxers on. He doesn't want to do this at all. Sometimes, yes he wants to so bad, when he is so high and lost to anything else, or if the other person is hurting like him, and you can always tell when that's happening, humans are not very good at hiding their emotions when on drugs. Those people are fine because all of them are hurting, and it is something like sharing their pain and bonding. It's about taking that shared pain, making it go away for a while and provide each other a sort of comfort if for just a moment. But these people... these people are all about a good time, and to them, Castiel is just the toy for the night. It makes him sick to his stomach, it makes him think of April for a split second and that is enough to make him want to bolt out of the room and run. But these people gave him what he needed, and because they like him, they gave him food, a shower and most likely, a bed for the night. And the thought of being warm and safe is enough for Castiel to try and make himself excited and spread his legs.

After some shuffling that Castiel does not remember, he finds himself on his back with this legs spread. The man is between his thighs, and the woman hovers above Castiel. He had been worried about not getting hard, and having these people lose interest, but damn the Heavenly host that the human body is easily stimulated, and that it did not take long enough for the woman to get him up and going. The woman has him deep in her throat, bobbing up and down in a frenzy, while the man thrusts into Castiel's body in the complete opposite speed as his girlfriend, all slow and calculating. The woman's genitalia is in front of him, and Castiel knows what he should do, what she wants him to do, but he just isn't in the mood. In the end he has no choice, so he licks his liips and lowers her hips towards his face. She moans loudly around his cock, and that feels good, so instead of concentrating on making her feel good, he concentrates on getting her to make those sounds again. The vibration of her voice served as a good enough distraction to the entire situation. Not that the man wasn't good enough either, but he was going to slow, dragging this for too long, and Castiel just wants this to be over and done with.

It's done at some point, Castiel really can't remember when but he suddenly finds himself alone on the bed. He vaguely remembers saying that he was too tired to move, and the girl telling him he should sleep. The house is still full of drug addicts, Castiel can hear talking coming from downstairs, which means the man went to greet and watch out for his 'guests', and the woman probably went to get her fix. That was fine with him, it meant he doesn't have to fall asleep surrounded by bodies, someone clinging to him all night especially when he'll sober up in the morning. He turns on his side and wraps himself into a cocoon of blankets and cuddles up with himself. A stray thought of how nice it would be to fall asleep with someone holding; it passes through his mind he did with April, but it's a far away thought. 

He wonders if being in Dean's arms would be warm.

-

He eats something from their kitchen before he takes off. When he walks past a man laying on the ground, Castiel sees his wallet sticking out and before he knows it, he's stealing this man's cash which isn't much, but he thinks it can get him a shitty motel room for the night, maybe some food, and that's good enough for now.

-

He never checks his phone.

Dean said that he would contact him, check on him, send him money if he needs it. So he waits a week, but Dean never calls and Castiel thinks that yeah, that wasn't a long enough time, but Dean knew Castiel had not been human for long, that this is all new... shouldn't he be making sure that he'll survive? So after that first week, Castiel turns off his phone, and doesn't turn it back on.

Maybe Dean's called him a couple of times, maybe texted him, asking him how he's doing, where he is, that he needs to come back, that Dean wants him to come back-

Castiel tries to get rid of the phone a couple of times. Throw it at an alley. At the river. Leave it at someone's house. Sell it. Anything. He doesn't want it. He's afraid to turn it on, and see no calls. He's afraid to see missed calls.

He's afraid of everything.

It's been 3 months now, but it feels so much longer.

He doesn't think about it too much, instead, he smiles at the woman next to him and gives her his 'charming smile', gets her name. Laura. Nice to meet you Laura. Wanna go back to your place? You're so beautiful Laura... the things I'm gonna do to you-

Then it's over and while she sleeps, Castiel takes Laura's jewelery, some of her cash, and raids her fridge. He stops at her bathroom and checks for pills that she might have, but she doesn't have anything so he leaves without thinking about it.

He doesn't feel guilty when he does these things. And that's because he's on drugs when he does them. So he pawns the jewelry he stole, and then with that, he buys drugs among other things. He takes heroin when he sells things or buys drugs, always has a backup. Heroin is calming, it makes him not care, so that's why he takes it. Drugs for different things. Heroin is for stealing. Castiel likes to think he's smart about this, tries to justify everything he does. But part of him thinks it isn't just for him but to the people he's met, the ones that are lonely and lost. Just like him. They don't need anyone. They don't need the families that left them, the loved ones that gave up on them, that didn't try harder to save them. They don't need anything but themselves. Their reasons are an escape from reality, and then those reasons fade into nothing because of the drugs, so in the end, there is no reason to do drugs but just because they want to.  Because they don't need anything else.

Castiel doesn't need anything.

Castiel doesn't _want_ anything.

Castiel doesn't want Dean.

He doesn't _need_ Dean.

After all... he has drugs. What else does he need?


	3. dirty numb angel boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's green eyes, and then bright lights and dreams that aren't real. Of course, there's also drugs, but those are the reasons as to why Castiel sees the green hues and flashes of non-stop lights. The dreams are the aftermath.

He doesn't do the whole sitting on the street begging for money bit much. It isn't out of shame, being in the desperate end of hunger is enough to snuff out any sort of humiliation. Castiel does it when he has to, when there's no sight of a person wanting to take him home or no new 'friends' to take pity on him. Or worse, no drugs around to make him forget for the night because at least he can still sleep out on the streets if there's something in his system. But when there's nothing those days are long are filled with anxiety and dizziness, and he understands that this is because he's going into withdraw, his body craving the high it's been getting almost non-stop for months. He ignores it by walking along a river and counting the stars, trying to see if he could still remember all of their names and the moments of their creation. Sitting on at the edge, knees shaking, fingers twitching, eyes darting back and forth. His skin is clammy, there's nausea coming around, his skin itches and aches. Castiel feels the worst he's felt since falling. More than the car crash, more than April torturing him, because at least those moments had an end, unlike this kind of pain that is never ending. By the time night comes he aches everywhere, his body is hurting for no reason when he stands his legs cramp up and he almost falls back down. He can't think, he can't move, but he knows that he needs it.

He needs it now.

There's stumbling and tripping along the way. There's delirious mumbling, there's an alley and trash everywhere. Someone grabs him and asks what he needs, if he needs a hospital, if he has a place to stay. He can't answer. All he can feel is pain, his body sensitive to everything around him. Then there's nothing.

 

-

 

It is dark and late in the night the next time he wakes. There's a delay in his thinking, until he realizes that he is in a hospital. There's a hint of panic, laced with dread and a sense of safety. He's safe for the night, warm in a bed with a guarantee of food in the morning, perhaps for a few days even. Then there's the panic at being at the reason as to why he is in a hospital, wondering what happened to him. What they'll do to him, they have to know about the drugs and Castiel has learned from others what happens when they catch you. Castiel has no papers, no type of ID, nothing because Dean said he would hook him up with those things soon, that he would call him and help him but he never fucking did just left him here all alone and helpless-

He stops and breaths. As much as he wants to, Castiel cannot stay here, he needs to leave before the morning, before anyone sees him and starts to ask questions. It's hard to stand up, he's dizzy and fevered but he manages eventually, and finds his clothes inside a bag in the closet of the room. It takes longer than it should to dress himself, then looks around the room, trying to find anything that he could take. There's nothing in this room. He sneaks out as best he can, and is almost caught by a nurse but is saved by a ringing phone, and when he makes it outside, he takes off running as fast as he can. He's so concentrated with running away that he didn't notice bumping into something.

“Jesus fucking Christ, watch where you're going!”

Or someone. Castiel grips onto the arms of this person, trying to keep up right and calm, but he panics when the other person grips him back, fingers digging into his shoulder painfully. He winces and keeps his gaze down hoping that he wouldn't trigger more anger from this person, and that they would let him go without a fight. The fingers don't let go, but they don't grip as hard anymore. Instead, one hand travels the rest of the way up his arm and around his neck in an almost gently hold, then runs fingers through Castiel's hair.

“Hmm... you got a pretty face. I guess I can let go the whole bumping into me thing.” The man drawls his voice, the hand slips away. “Man, you're really fucking pretty.”

Castiel's breathing picks up in fear and panic. He's getting what this man is trying to say, this isn't the first time he's had someone say something like this to him, and some times, Castiel was more than willing to play that for a place to stay for the night. Now it was something more of getting out of trouble, that the trade was so this man would not hurt Castiel. He's about to push the man away as hard as he could, and take off running and hope that he could get away without any issues, but then the man lets him go completely and chuckles in a charming voice. Castiel still can't make himself look at the man.

“Hey c'mon on, I was just kidding. No hard feeling?” The man steps back a little, trying to reassure Castiel that he really was joking, and that he meant no harm. It takes a few moments that feel like an eternity, but Castiel finally does look up at the stranger in front of him, and feels his entire body seize up.

All he can see is green eyes.

 

-

 

The man's name is Stanley 'but please call me Stan' he says in his most alluring voice and smile. He apologizes for snapping at Castiel and says that he'll get him a drink. Castiel has had one or two problems at bars because he doesn't have an ID, but regular bars don't care about something like that, as long as there's cash involved in the end. Night clubs never let him in, but that wasn't something he had been interested in anyway, even if he had been told that there were lots of drugs there. It just wasn't his scene, all the loud music and dancing. But Stan wants to take him to one as an apology, and seems really earnest about it. He informs Stan about his lack of ID and hopes that it will make the other man drop the whole thing and walk away. Castiel doesn't understand why he doesn't just leave himself if he doesn't want this man's company. But Stan says that it isn't a problem, that they'll let them go, that he's friends with the owner. The bouncers let them go without a problem, even go and hug Stan, saying how long has it been. They seem to know him well. Castiel has never been inside a club before, never has wanted to, but now he's inside and it's loud and flashy. There's a headache already from his lack of drugs in his system, but it is faded from being in the hospital, from whatever they did to him. Now it wants to come back at full force as the lights flash in different colors, the loud and booming dance music shaking his unwilling frame along it's rhythm.

He wants to walk away now, not willing to give this a chance but Stan grabs his arm and pulls him along, saying something that Castiel cannot hear. Instead, he lets himself be pulled along still not understanding why, and find himself sitting in a circular booth at the corner of the club. Stan leans closer to speak in his ear.

“Hey I'm gonna go get us some drinks, okay? Be right back!” With that, Stan winks at Castiel, his green eyes gleam with a hidden meaning and walks towards the bar. Castiel feels his heart beat faster, the man's eyes making his heart lurch painfully for reasons. He sighs and leans on his elbows on the table, eyes trailing around his surroundings.

Castiel watches people grind against each other in a frenzy, women ride men's thighs, rubbing themselves under the disguise of dance and tempo. A vulgar public display that no one minds, that everyone imitates and indulges in. Castiel finds it offensive for some reason, despite having done things that could be seen as worse and more incident than this, but it's the idea of this mass of people bumping against each other that makes his skin crawl. He can't help it. In the end, he looks away because he can't keep the disgust inside himself any longer and instead stares up at the lights that flash endlessly. They sort of remind him of drugs and wonders how this would feel if he had something in his system, wonders if the colors would brighten up more, if they would ever be as vivid as they had been when he was still an angel.

“You seem really out of it, pretty boy.”

Castiel jumps in slight shock and looks at Stan who is smirking at him with two drinks in each hand, then pushes one towards Castiel who takes it with a whispered thank you. Stan slides on the seat of the booth, and sits right next to Castiel, not caring about personal space and swings an arm behind Castiel's shoulders. His hand drops to a shoulder and grips it in a gentle hold, fingers massaging it with a gentleness that seems too intimate for two strangers. Castiel feels that uneasiness come back, but he still can't make himself push this man away.

“Hey... you should relax. I'm not gonna hurt you, baby.” Stan smiles and laughs. “Just relax, drink what I got you and tell me your story.”

“My story?”

“You know... running down the streets, bumping into me... you seems really out of it, babe. What could have happened to such a pretty face?”

Castiel snaps his head to the side and grabs his drink. He knows he should just stand up and walk away, Castiel knows nothing about this man, doesn't even understand why he came along. Taking a deep breath, he braces his limbs to stand up and leave the club but nothing happens. Instead, he lifts up the glass in front of him and drinks as fast as he can. Stan smirks as he watches, and Castiel tries to ignore it.

“I'll get you more if that's what you want.”

“This is fine.” It isn't, but he doesn't want to trust this man. “Anyway... my story? There isn't any story here.” And that's a lie, of course it is, but what was he supposed to say? 'I'm a fallen angel and my best friend, the righteous man that was to be Micheal’s sword and save the world, and who is the most important person in my life, yeah he left me all alone and now I'm stuck as a human until I die', yeah, that did not sound like something that would go well, and it might as well send him into a mental institute. It might make him pathetic, but it was better for this man to believe that he was just some homeless drug addict, and leave it at that.

“I really don't believe that. You're just so...” Stan's voice trails off, the mass of bodies and beaming lights blend into a mess that Castiel cannot stop staring at, and it suddenly starts to feel as though he isn't really anywhere. It's an implosion of sensations, an aurora forming behind the man and Castiel can't stop staring at it. It occurs to him that this is- “I dunno, it's just strange for someone like you to be out of the streets running around like that.”

“S-strange?” Castiel responds in reflex, the words thick and heavy on his tongue. He doesn't know what's going on, doesn't understand how this happened. “I... I'm just-”

“Hey, man... no judgments here. We all got our problems and whatever happened to you, it's none of my business. So here,” Stan pushes his own drink towards Castiel. “Just forget for the night.” His tone of voice is calming and comforting, and Castiel takes it as real concern, but if he had been looking at Stan's face, he would have seen the smirk and the excitement. But Castiel doesn't see it, and ends up picking up the drink without thinking about it, like he's in autopilot.

As the alcohol burns his throat, the effect is automatic and fast. His body suddenly feels lighter and... and bright and so fucking amazing and why does it feel like this? He just had two drinks-

“Did it work?” Stan asks with a chuckle. “You were so down and all, I kinda spiked your drink. Don't worry though, I wasn't planning on taking advantage of you or anything, promise.” He does look a little sorry.

“Why... would you-”

“But you're feeling great now, right?”

And Castiel knows that he should be angry and screaming, make accusations and just leave right now. But his mind is becoming hazy and the explosion of ecstasy burns all his nerve ending raw, his limbs feel cold and hot all over, it's that feeling of everything fading into nothing. The lights are colorful and they swirl into a tornado that seems to pick him up and take him so far away, away from this loud music and this man and Dean-

“Yes...” he says in a daze as he closes his eyes. He leans back on the booth, head lolling back and looks up at the ceiling, ignoring the brights and concentrating on a spot on the ceiling, letting everything coil in his head, and he wants to just sit there for the rest of time, but that's slashed away as Stan pulls on his arm. And because Castiel is so out of it by now, he lets himself be pulled up and pushed towards the dancing in the middle of the room. He tries to pull back, both because he doesn't want to be around those sweaty and grinding bodies, and because he really doesn't dance, he doesn't know how, and he wants to say that, but Stan is faster and the next thing Castiel knows, he is cocooned between the bodies of stranger. Stan is a barrier between him and the pile of people kneading on each other for a moment, before Stan wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close, a leg going between his two. Castiel brings up his hands and pushes against Stan's chest, pushes as hard as he can but he's so out of it so any strength he has is useless. But as the moment goes on, the bodies fade away in a sea of sweat and lights, and all he can see is this man's green eyes just staring at him, telling him that things will be okay, and just let things take their course. He surprises the man by wrapping his arms around his neck and leaning closer to him, and it isn't because he wants this man, but everything is spinning.

“There you go.”

 

-

 

It's flashes of red and green and blue and black, all so fast Castiel can't keep up, can't keep his eyes open because there is no point; he can't see anyway. Dancing becomes easy, it is so much easier than he ever thought possible because all you have to do is let the waves of rhythm take you for a ride. His body moves on his own like it knows what to do already, and perhaps it does. Maybe this is a human thing, something that is imbedded in all of them, this natural sway of their bodies to steady beats and bright lights. He feels the sweat run down his neck so he goes to wipe it away with his hands, runs them up his hair and feels the moist there as well, can't even think of how much he's sweating. He doesn't feel tired or out of breath so why is he so drench?

“Hey, pretty boy? You okay?”

Castiel looks at Stan who breaks the trance of dance from his body for a moment, but then large hands grab at his hips and guide him back in. He stares at those green eyes that flash red and blue and black every so often due to the spot lights, but for half a second those eyes are green once more, and it's perfect. Castiel likes green.

“Dean...” he whispers out of breath for no reason, and Stan does not hear it or doesn't care, but he can't stop it now. There's light and heat and a beat all around him, and he can't help himself. “Dean... don't leave me.”

“What was that?”

His arms are wrapped loosely around Stan, his forehead pushed against the others in a mock show of affection that works for his purposes. The other man chuckles and grips his hips tighter, pulling them closer to his own. The music distorts and skips in Castiel's head, the colors blend in a mess that he can't look at anymore; it hurts and it makes him too dizzy to think. But he tries anyway because he can't stand not seeing what was going on.

What he sees is his brothers all around him, burned wings all over the dance floor. There's dead angels fading away in a bright light that is multi-colored and it flashes on and off with the beat of the dance music. It's oddly beautiful. There's screams that are inhuman, a pitch that Castiel can't really hear anymore, not with these human ears but in this plane, in this in-between of drug indulgence and awareness, in this place... he can hear it. Can hear _them_ with their real voices; not angel radio, not a distant echo of a memory, but their real voices all around him.

He wants to scream.

Instead, he laughs and surges forward to kiss the man dancing with him. The way Stan's lips curls around his mouth are proof that this was his real goal from the beginning, but Castiel can't make himself give a damn.

 

-

Dean is gentle with him. He glides his hands down Castiel's chest, following the sharp angles of his stomach and hips. His fingers a light on his flesh as they trace his hipbones and follow that natural crease down towards his dick, and then wraps them around him in a soft and gentle hold. Castiel is so high up, higher than he has ever been, and he takes Dean along with him, tries to show him how liberating it can be. Those green eyes are trusting, and let Castiel do what he wishes.

“So fucking gorgeous, pretty boy.”

So fucking pretty.

 

-

When he wakes the next morning, in a room that he doesn't recognize, in the bed with a man who drugged him and tricked him into coming back with him, when it hits him that he thought this man was-

Castiel stumbles out of bed, slips on his way towards the bathroom and skids on his knees when he makes it to the toilet and throws up. He throws up whatever he had in his system which wasn't much, and it left with a disgusting taste of stomach acid in his mouth, vomits clear liquid that burns and hurts. The force makes his eyes tear up, yes, that's the reason. It has nothing to do with the nausea from the drugs and the fact that he was... and that he thought it was Dean-

And then... there's that. Dean. He wanted Dean. Since when? How? He wants the man that... that left him? For how long-

But he knew, Castiel always fucking knew how he felt about Dean. Ever since Dean Winchester took over and showed him a new life, a new way, a freedom that he never knew of. An affection that just grew as the years went by, and Castiel just didn't notice _he did notice he just ignored it_.

The hysterics come out slowly, the hiccuping sobs that rattle his entire frame and it's disgusting because there's a clear vomit-like liquid at the corner of his lips, trailing down his face and his neck. There's tears running down his face and snot all over and going into his mouth, but he can't make himself care because this... this is the worst. More damning and punishing than falling and being left alone. This is what hell would be like for Castiel.

He cries and screams in the bathroom, and when Stan unlocks the bathroom and stands there just watching him, Castiel can't make himself feel shame or even move. He expects to be kicked out and dropped and be thrown away like Dean had _he wasn't that harsh about it-_

The feeling of cotton on his face comes out of nowhere, it wipes the vomit off his face, then there's tissues and telling him to blow as they press against his nose. And then there are tender hands wiping tears away, and Castiel thinks for an insane moment that it wasn't a dream. That this... this is Dean. That Dean found him, went to look for him and they danced and... and came back to a motel and Dean made love to him, touched him softly all night and held him through the aftershocks of the drugs in his system. But when he looks up, it's Stan giving him a sad look, a sorry look _pity_. He pulls Castiel in his arms, rubs his back and his hair, whispering things that Castiel wants to believe because if Dean won't care for him, then maybe this man- Stan, he can take care of Castiel.

“Stay here. I'll take care of you... I'll keep you feeling safe and wonderful, pretty boy.”

“Castiel.” He rasps, his voice even more gravel than usual. “My name is Castiel. Cas if you like.”

“Cas... I like it. I'll take care of you Cas. Let me be the one to keep you feeling good from now on.”

Why not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have the story planned out but this thing with Stan just took a life of its own and I'll run with it i guess. It doesn't change the way this story is heading, so why not? It's going to add something to this story that i didn't think about, and i feel like it'll be something that gives the story more life to it. It'll give the drugs a personality and that's something i didn't even consider. I only like writing about things i understand fully, and drugs are something I don't grasp all the way; if you count weed or acid back when i started college lol so here i would like to apologize if i got drug facts wrong??


End file.
